


spotted

by text



Category: ASTRO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:37:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9883667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/text/pseuds/text
Summary: Seeing Myungjun here, at their high school reunion gathering -- Jinwoo can't help but think something feels different.





	

After graduating, Jinwoo's gone through a more favorable series of events.

He's moved out from living with his parents to rooming with one of his friends, Dongmin, a college student who lives in an apartment complex still filled with unpacked boxes. There's also Sanha, Dongmin's boyfriend who's been staying overnight for so long he might as well be considered a second roommate. Normally Jinwoo doesn't mind him but sometimes it gets a bit annoying when he has to do the laundry and clean dishes for three people instead of two.

Dongmin is definitely the more popular one of the two. That's what Jinwoo realized after many invitations to parties and get-togethers and even a two-week long road trip (and for those two weeks Jinwoo enjoyed the peace at first but came to a conclusion that he misses Dongmin's orderliness and his chaotic boyfriend). He has been greeted with the sight of Dongmin passed out on the couch at seven in the morning too many times to count.

So Jinwoo is surprised when he gets an e-card about his high school reunion gathering in his inbox directed to him and only him. It's a bit rushed; Jinwoo carefully eyes the craftsmanship it must have taken the sender in order to compile the cliparts of a party hat and poppers. And while it may look like it was created in MS Paint in five minutes, he commends the sender for the smidge of effort.

"They misspelled the name of our school," Jinwoo mumbles, carefully reading the sentence for the third time to make sure the typo is real, and yep, it totally is.

"What's that?" Dongmin asks, peering over Jinwoo's shoulder.

"Some reunion for my graduating class," Jinwoo shrugs.

Dongmin says, "finally!"

"What?"

"Well. I was starting to think you didn't have any friends," and before Jinwoo can retaliate, Dongmin adds, "besides me and Sanha. Like, friends you get to occasionally meet and catch up with. I don't think people you live with are considered friends."

"Then what am I? Who is Sanha?"

"Sanha is my boyfriend and I consider you someone who tolerates me very, very much. To the point where I think you may be living with me to only one day conspire against me," Dongmin says very seriously.

"Oh, I've been caught."

"I knew it," he shakes his head. "When is it? For how long?"

"Maybe you're the one planning something," he looks at Dongmin cautiously before scanning the email once again. "It's next Tuesday, from seven to ten."

Dongmin types something into his phone. "Noted. Have fun!" He heads into his room, and Jinwoo sighs, already thinking about what to wear. His closet is abominable, due to him having the fashion sense, as Sanha puts it, 'of a beach dad.'

He closes the laptop and goes to his room, curling up in bed with a light blanket draped over body, wishing their AC unit would be fixed already, teeth chattering from the cold.

 

* * *

 

The week passes by faster than Jinwoo expected, and by the time he knows it, it's already Tuesday, and Jinwoo stands at his closet at six in the afternoon, pondering once more about what fashion risk he should take today. However, that is not the only worry he has on his mind. Should he bring a gift of offering? Wine? A cake? It would probably feel weird if he brought wine; it's a gathering, not a party - and what if people were allergic to the type of cake he bought? That would be a disaster. He smacks himself for even calling it a 'gift of offering'. He isn't making peace with anyone, nor does he want to be in a situation where he even has to in the first place.

If he will be by himself pathetically huddled in a corner and his only friend is a Solo cup half full with water, so be it. He is going to a gathering for three hours and he will make sure he enjoys it. He needs to get out of the house more anyway, he tells himself as he picks a simple outfit of a button-up shirt and a jacket.

Jinwoo stands in front of his mirror, examining himself from all angles. "Looking sharp," he tells himself because no one else is there to tell him. He jumps at the creak of his bedroom door.

Sanha stands stock still at the doorway, blinking like a deer in headlights. "Were you just talking to yourself?"

"No."

He blinks again and tilts his head. "But I heard --"

"You heard nothing. Now get out." Grabbing his shoulders, Jinwoo pushes him out of the room.

He ignores Sanha as he wails, "But I just wanted to know where the extra laundry detergent was!"

 

* * *

 

At the party, someone familiar immediately catches Jinwoo's eye.

Short stature, bright eyes, full lips. Shorts that reveal the faded bruises and healing scrapes on his knees. A brightly colored cap, which makes him look younger than he is despite the fact Jinwoo knows they are the same age. He's laughing with someone with his head tilted back, revealing the long line of his neck.

Seeing Myungjun here, at their high school reunion gathering -- Jinwoo can't help but think something feels different.

Honestly, Jinwoo's memory be damned, he cannot recall how he knows Myungjun. Of course, they were in the same class, and Jinwoo's certain they probably shared a lunch period at some point, but they never really talked.

He knows he's kind of been staring too long. He knows that Myungjun knows, because Myungjun's grin falters as he catches Jinwoo out of his peripheral.

Jinwoo looks away. He kind of wants to start a conversation, but Myungjun is already talking to someone and he reckons it would be weird if he, a stranger, began to approach him anyway.

Jinwoo enjoys the party by himself huddled in the corner of the room with his best friend, a Solo cup half full with water.

He spots Myungjun again on the balcony. He isn't snooping around the house, of course not - Jinwoo isn't that weird, but the atmosphere is honestly overwhelming and he's not sure where else to find his escape that isn't leaving the house to retreat back to his own. Jinwoo watches Myungjun taking a sip from his cup and winces, unsure if there's alcohol in there or not.

Nevertheless, he slides the door open, Myungjun's head whipping to him.

"Oh," Myungjun says, his once stiffened posture now relaxing. He takes off his cap and combs a hand through his hair, cut locks (has he always had short hair?) moving easily against his fingers. "It's just you again."

"Myungjun," Jinwoo says, and Myungjun nods, expressionless. Jinwoo figures since he hasn't been shooed off yet, he's welcome. He slides the door shut behind him, taking a seat beside Myungjun, conscious of the space between them.

"Jinwoo," Myungjun says, his voice like ash and sand. He doesn't look at Jinwoo, eyes set downcast upon the quiet neighborhood. The light from the LED street lamps slightly illuminate his face, outlining his profile and all Jinwoo can do is stare.

"I can't really remember how or why I knew you," Jinwoo admits.

Myungjun snorts at that. "Figures. It's probably because I had long hair and looked rounder."

"You had long hair?"

"I was paired up with you for that chemistry project during the first semester," Myungjun continues, bringing the brim of his cup to his lips. Jinwoo's face contorts into a look of confusion, his mouth running on autopilot.

"What? But my project partner was a --"

" _Was_ ," Myungjun interrupts him, voice sharp.

"Oh," Jinwoo quietly soaks up the realization, wishing he had sown his mouth shut. "Sorry."

"It's fine. No one really remembered me, anyway. The last two months of our final year were a living hell for me. I was so sick of the uniform I stayed at home on picture day."

"Don't you sometimes wish you had a photo of yourself then, though? To think of the memories and like, I dunno," Jinwoo pauses, trying to find the right words. "Reflect?"

Myungjun shakes his head. "I don't want to battle a past image of myself. And I don't think it would've ended well if I was there, either. That was the day I was considering buzzing all my hair off." The corners of his mouth quirk upward at a thought. "Sometimes I would take my dad's old uniform and try it on in front of the mirror, and even if it was too baggy I thought about going to school like that, too."

"You'd look like a monk," he remarks offhandedly. Myungjun huffs out a laugh, shining.

"I guess I would." He looks back out to the tops of the roofs again, eyelashes fluttering. "I kind of miss him. I haven't talked to him or my mom in a while."

"How come?"

Myungjun gives him this 'seriously?' kind of look but without any weight. "I don't know, maybe it's because I've been scared to tell them how much their 'little girl' has changed. I mean, I'm an adult and I've been capable of living in a dorm since I got in uni - but, well." Myungjun is actually looking at him when he speaks, his gaze passionate. Jinwoo nods along as he holds the eye contact like a lifeline. "Sometimes I still wonder how they're doing even if they may not have treated me the best."

There's a small silence in the air, and Jinwoo mulls over his words. Myungjun pulls out his phone and squints at the time before getting to his feet. "It's getting late, I should probably go and find my car."

"You're not drunk?"

"No, the beer they have here is gross," he wrinkles his nose, showing Jinwoo the water sloshing around in his cup. Relief gradually washes over him, and Jinwoo begins to stand as well.

He leaves quickly and quietly without anybody noticing him, an art which Jinwoo has mastered with a practiced ease, not knowing the faces he passes enough (or forgetting them in general) to say goodbye. Myungjun acknowledges and waves at a few people though, and it takes a while for him to exit the house. Jinwoo's not really sure why he waits for him, but he does and they try to find their cars in the dark. Myungjun finds his easily; he parked at a spot close to the house, while Jinwoo reckons his is probably around the corner.

"Myungjun," Jinwoo surprises himself there, because Myungjun turns to him then, hand lingering on the door handle. The night makes him look soft. He bites the inside of his mouth, deciding to forgo all sensibility. "It was good. To see you again, I mean. Is it too early to ask for your number?"

A moment passes until Myungjun smiles, pulling out his phone from his back pocket. A Pokémon lockscreen briefly shows before he opens the contacts app. "Put yours in mine first. I'll text you."

 

When Jinwoo arrives home, he's greeted with two things: a crayon drawing of a bear with a smiley face instead of a muzzle taped to the door, and a cup of hot ramen sitting at the counter, spice packets unopened but still placed beside the cup just in case if Jinwoo wanted them.

Getting a pair of chopsticks from the utensil drawer, he eats spicy ramen on the couch and contemplates the correct facial anatomy of a bear.

 

* * *

 

That night, as Jinwoo is just about ready to retire for the day, his phone pings with two messages from an unrecognizable number. Upon reading the first few words, a tiny smile stretches across his face.

 **Unknown Number [11:37]:**  
_hey, this is myungjun. honestly, when i first saw you at the gathering it ruined my good mood. i always thought you were a jerk... but talking to you at the balcony was nice and i'm glad you were the one to ask for my number. it was reassuring to know that i wasn't the only person thinking about it either._

 **Unknown Number [11:41]:**  
_because you asked me a question, i'll ask one back: how do you feel about a movie sometime next thursday?_

Jinwoo sits up in his bed and types a quick response into his phone (he considers adding a bunch of exclamation points but then erases them all).

Thinking of the following week to come, Jinwoo promptly falls asleep, dreaming of bright eyes, a chiming laugh, and a colorful cap.


End file.
